UntitledThanksgiving
by demonchilde
Summary: eigth chapter up...readreview please...
1. Default Chapter

Crossing Jordan doesn't belong to me, but I wish it did…

A little J/G Friendship/UST here folks…If I get anything wrong I ask to be corrected…Also, most of this story was written before last night's eps., so it assumes that Jordan was found unconscious after being buried alive and that she doesn't yet know of Garrett's promotion.The song 'Iowa' once again belongs to SlipKnot. Words in **Bold** is what Jordan's thinking, words in _Italics_ are song lyrics.

Untitled/Thanksgiving

4 PM

Medical Examiner's Office

"Garrett, what are you still doing here? Everyone else left hours ago," Jordan said with an exasperated sigh, leaning against his doorframe.

"I could say the same for you, Jordan," Garrett Macy glanced up at his sarcastic medical examiner with tired eyes.

"Just finished up on the Morgan autopsy," She replied, "and now I'm going home. You should head home too, Garrett. Nor' Easter coming right for us. Besides it's Thanksgiving…shouldn't you be spending it with your daughter or…with Lily?"

"My daughter is with her boyfriend's family and Lily and I are going through some tough times at the moment."

"I see…sorry about that, Garrett," Jordan replied before she sat down at his desk, propping her feet on top of it. "So we're in the same boat."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Evelyn doesn't want me over there for Thanksgiving. Says that if I bring one more case file over there for my father to help me out with she'll kick me out." Jordan rolled her eyes, her voice laced with bitterness. "Me, kicked out of my own house by my father's girlfriend. How terribly sad and ironic."

"Well Jordan, in case you haven't noticed by now, you do seem to have that effect on people," Garrett replied, flashing a rare smile. Jordan's eyebrows shot up.

"You'd be the one to know, Garrett," She shot back, finally taking her feet off his desk. Her eyes spotted the new plaque and her eyes widened.

"Sonuvabitch, Garrett…you're the new Chief Medical Examiner?"

"We all thought you knew."

"No, of course I didn't know! Don't tell me you kissed Yokura's ass to get it…"

"No…actually I told her that she couldn't find anyone else more qualified to run this place than me." 

Jordan's eyes widened.

"And she didn't fire you for saying that? Damn Garrett, you got a pair of brass ones on you don't you?"

"Actually she said that the job was mine all along and that all I had to do was ask for it."

"Wow…so she isn't a total bitch after all."

"Guess not." Garrett gave her a considering look before continuing. "Listen Jordan…with me as Chief Medical Examiner, I am going to need someone to take my former position. I'd like you to at least consider it."

"I'm…I'm flattered Garrett. Honestly I am…how much is the pay raise?" She replied hopefully, wagging her eyebrows up and down.

"Substantial," Garrett replied dryly, and was rewarded by one of Jordan's wide smiles that she only used for special occasions.

"All right then, I'll do it."

Later That Night

She'd been surprised when Garrett had suddenly offered to take her out to Thanksgiving dinner, and she'd been even more surprised to hear herself accept the offer.

Everything had gone well until they had been about ready to leave the restaurant, when someone had walked up to her and asked her if she was 'That woman that they'd found buried alive.'

Things had gone steadily downhill from there, and he'd driven her back to the office, where she had left her vehicle. Turning off the engine, he glanced at her.

"Jordan, you don't look okay." He frowned at her, his eyes mirroring his concern. "Talk to me." She stayed silent for awhile before she replied.

"…It was very cold, Garrett, in that coffin. I don't know if you know this, but I also happen to be more than slightly claustrophobic. Needless to say, it wasn't easy for me to breathe…I begged for him, for anyone, to help me, to get me out of there-" She halted suddenly when her voice began to quiver slightly. 

Garrett realized then that no matter how close he would ever get to her, she wouldn't allow herself to show him any weakness.

"…After that, I don't remember a hell of a lot," She finished, her eyes staring searchingly into his own. "How…How long was I in the coffin for?"

"Six hours." She nodded and turned away, gazing into the darkness. 

"Who found me?"

"Haley and I did. You were in pretty bad shape, Jordan. We didn't know if you were gonna pull through or not." She nodded and sighed, not saying anything further on the matter.

"Listen Jordan, why don't you take tomorrow off? Ever since you've been out of the hospital, you've been working on burning yourself out, and you know as well as I do that's not healthy." Jordan glared at him, her eyes accusing. "Don't argue with me Jordan. You haven't gotten nearly enough sleep considering you've been sleeping here in your office."

Rolling her eyes, she nodded again.

"Thanks for dinner Garrett…and for the day off," she replied quietly, leaving his vehicle. "I'll see you Saturday."

"See you."

1:12 A.M.

Jordan's Apartment

The storm was beginning to start as Jordan tossed and turned in her bed under the covers. She was in the middle of a nightmare she couldn't seem to wake herself up from…

"Stupid bitch," Daniel snarled from the driver's seat of the coroner's van, "You damn near ruined everything for me. I'm gonna make you pay for that." Jordan couldn't say anything in her defense and she heard a song come through the speakers.

__

"Relax…It's over

You belong to me

I fill your mouth with dirt

Relax…it's over

You can never leave

I take your second digit with me…

Love…"

"I like this song," Daniel murmured softly to her. "I heard this song blaring out of another car as I was driving to take my first one to the cemetery."

__

"You are…my first

I can barely breathe

I find you fascinating

You are…my favorite

Lay you down to sleep

It's all that I can do to stop…

Love…"

"I did love her, you know…I really did love my mother. And how did she repay me? By locking me in a box," Daniel hissed, his eyes going to slits, his fist slamming down on the steering wheel. "She fucking locked me in a box as she was screwing those horny pricks for money when she could have been working at a real job, a job that didn't require her to be such a fucking whore…"

__

"So blue, so broken

Paper doll decays

I haven't left you yet

So cold, subversive

Your eyes are full of bleach

Tomorrow I will go away again…

Love…"

"No one's going to come between us…you realize that, don't you? I will sit there in this van and listen to you beg for your life as I begged when I was younger to be let out of that cramped hellhole she shoved me in whenever she felt the need to fuck…"

__

("Tears us apart…It tears us apart…")

****

-Jesus…Garrett, someone help me-

__

("It cuts…it cuts…you can't leave…")

****

-Anyone…please God I know I haven't been goin' to church recently (been busy you know) but PLEASE don't let him do this to me PLEASE-

__

"YOU ARE MINE!

YOU WILL ALWAYS BE MINE!

I CAN TEAR YOU APART

I CAN RECOMBINE YOU!

ALL I WANT

IS TO COVET YOU ALL!

YOU BELONG TO ME;

I WILL KILL YOU TO LOVE YOU!!!

LOVE…"

"We're here," Daniel said, his voice betraying his glee as he stopped the van. "I wonder how long you'll last…"

__

("I can smell you on me…I can smell you on me…

I told you…you'll live forever…hahahahaha…you'll live forever…")

A scream was ripped out of her throat as she managed to jerk herself awake. Jordan picked up the cordless phone and without hesitation speed-dialed a number. A tired voice answered the phone on the third ring.

"Macy here…"

"Garrett, it's me…I need to talk…"

Want more? J 


	2. Pt. 2

            This is a kinda sorta second half to Untitled/Thanksgiving. Hope ya'll enjoy, and my apologies for it takin' so damned long. I don't own Crossing Jordan. Words in _italics_ are Garrett's thoughts, words in **bold** are Jordan's thoughts. If I get something wrong I ask to be corrected. Also, there is something I'd like to know: what color are Jordan's/ Garret's eyes, if any of you have noticed?

            Untitled/Thanksgiving

            Pt. 2

            A knock on her door brought her out of her silent reverie. 

            Opening it up, she saw her boss standing there, looking concerned.

            **As well he should**, she thought gloomily**. I don't even know what the hell's wrong with me. Didn't have any problems for awhile after it happened, and now all of a sudden I'm having nightmares about it?**

"Hey," was all she said out loud, her eyes not meeting his own.

            "Hey," He rumbled back, frowning_. She didn't look good. Didn't look good at all_. "Can I come in?"

            "Oh, yeah…where the hell did my manners go? Please…" She opened the door wider and backed away as he entered, making her way to the kitchen and grabbing the coffee pot. Pouring some of it into a mug, she asked Garrett if he wanted some.

            "Yes please," he replied, and she poured some for him too.

            Walking back into the living room, she handed him his coffee, then sat down with her own, her hands wrapped around the mug so tightly that it almost seemed to Garrett as if she was trying to draw all the warmth from it that she could.

            Something was seriously wrong with her.

            "So you want to talk about it?"

 She nodded silently. "Just give me a minute." 

"Okay."

Minutes passed without either of them talking to each other before she began to speak.

"Garrett, why is this all happening now? Why didn't I start having the nightmares right after it happened? Why now?" Her eyes met his own, pleading silently for an answer.

"Honestly Jordan I couldn't say, but if I was to hazard a guess I'd say it was because of shock…and I'd say now you're going through the stages of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Do you know exactly what set this off?"

"Probably that guy we saw last night at dinner asking me if I was that woman that had been buried alive. Just a guess, but…"

"That might be it then. Or it could be something less obvious."

"Maybe."

"Have you thought about…talking to someone more qualified?"

"As in a shrink?" She barked out a laugh. "I don't hardly think so."

"Why not?"

"Garrett, when you let out all your thoughts and feelings, ninety percent of the time their only question is 'and how do you feel about that?' If I wanted to hear that one goddamned sentence over and over again, Garrett, and pay up the ass for doing so, then I'd go see a shrink. Notice me not calling one up right now and demanding to speak to one."

"You called me up and wanted to speak to me."

Jordan grunted.

"That's different."

"How so?" He put down his mug and stared at her, his dark eyes betraying no emotion.

"Well for one thing you're not chargin' me any money for driving all the way here in the middle of a fuckin' snowstorm, and for another thing you haven't asked me 'how do you feel about that' yet."

"Well Jordan, I do so hate to disappoint, but how do you feel about that?"

She glared at him.

"How did I know those were going to be the next words to come out of your mouth, Garrett?"

_Would you have liked me to say that I care about you?_

"You must be psychic, Jordan, what can I say…" Garrett lied easily, leaning back in his seat. "But seriously now, you really ought to see someone to talk about this."

"I am seeing someone…I'm seeing you," Jordan protested, glaring at him stubbornly.

He glared at her back.

"You know what I mean, Jordan, someone who's a licensed psychologist. You can't let what happened to you overrun your life. I won't let it," Garrett said, the first emotion Jordan had seen other than dry sarcasm and worry flare in his eyes. "And neither should you."

"Gee Garrett, I never knew you felt so strongly about this."

"I've seen a lot of people let one traumatic event decide the rest of their life for them, Jordan. I mean, most of the population of New York City is going to be forever traumatized in some way by what happened, and that's understandable, but…"

"But what?"

"But I don't want to see that happen to you," Garrett finished quietly. "You're one of the best Medical Examiners I have Jordan, and you're a friend. I don't think I'd be able to forgive myself if I let something happen to you."

"What happened wasn't your fault Garrett, nor was it Haley's. He knows that, and so should you."

"If we hadn't found you Jordan, when we did, you wouldn't be alive right now. I keep worrying about that one single fact constantly-hell, that's one of the few things I've been thinking about all week."

_So pale…so cold when we found you Jordan…saw the scratches on the coffin…and God help me I thought you were dead…I thought my world had ended right there…_

"Well here's a newsflash…I'm still here, and I'm healthy as a horse."

            "Doesn't change the fact that you should still talk to someone."

            "You're going to beat that into the ground, aren't you?" Jordan sighed, finally taking a sip of her hazelnut coffee.

            "As long as it takes for you to realize that you need to talk to someone, yes."

            "Well what if I don't want to talk to a shrink, hmm?"

            "Well I can always suspend you with pay until you choose to do so, but I don't think either of us would enjoy that too much."

            Her eyes widened at the thought.

            "You wouldn't."

            "Try me."

            "What happened hasn't affected my job, Garrett, and I resent your insinuation that it will," She snarled suddenly, slamming down the mug on the coffee table.

            **Boy am I glad I didn't break it. It's my favorite mug…**

"It hasn't, huh? Jordan, I've caught you once or twice almost falling asleep at autopsies. You've been rather irritable at the Three Musketeers-"

            "-Excuse me? 'Three musketeers'?"

            "My little private nickname for Bug, Nigel and Trey," Garrett explained with a scowl.

            "Ah…I see."

            "But getting back to the point, it has become noticeable that it's bothering you, and I don't think you should come back to work until you've learned to deal with it."

            "That's harsh, Garrett. That really is."

            "I'm sorry you feel that way."

            "I'm sure you are." Her gaze went towards the window, where the snow was beginning to pile up more and more on the road below. "Listen, I don't want you taking a chance driving home in this shit. Why don't you crash on the couch…I'm gonna try to go back to bed."

            Garrett nodded as she rose from her seat and went into the kitchen, dumping out her now lukewarm coffee down the sink. From there she went into her bedroom, murmuring a 'good night' to her boss before she slid back into bed.

            Tick

            Tock

            Tick

            Tock

            Tick

            Tock

            Tick

            Tock…

            It was a long wait before she would see daylight…


	3. 3

Part 3 Yeah, I took some liberties w/the episode, making that Jabroni Daniel a little more talkative than he actually was. Jordan's Thoughts in Bold, Garrett's in Italic  
  
Jordan wasn't the only one not getting enough sleep: Garrett was busy attempting to bore himself to sleep by counting snowflakes and was failing miserably.  
One thousand twenty-six, One thousand twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine...Jordan...how am I gonna make this right with you? I gave you an ultimatum, and I swear it damn near killed me to see the hurt in your eyes. You're a hell of a lot like me in many respects, and I shouldn't be too surprised as I was the one that trained you: work is what we live for...One thousand-shit, what number did I leave off at? Damn it. He twisted over, his dark gaze staring straight at Jordans bedroom door.  
I hurt you last night, and by the looks of things I hurt you even more than that miserable little shit did, and God help me I'm glad he's dead, I'm just pissed I didn't have the chance to kill him myself, He thought, his eyes narrowing into slits. After all, as Medical Examiners we DO have a rather intimate knowledge of the human body, don't we? I wouldn't have minded taking him into the morgue after hours for a little biopsy work... He enjoyed himself with that cheerful thought for about a half an hour or so before glancing at his watch.  
4:30  
Only four fuckin' thirty? God, it feels later than that, Garrett thought, his eyes straying towards Jordan's bedroom door once more. I Hope she's getting more sleep than I am.  
  
I hope Garrett's getting more sleep than I am, Jordan thought miserably, feeling a lone tear slide down her face before it was absorbed into her pillow. One of us should at least get some sleep. Might as well be him, right? He's the one that's going into work today, after all. She felt the anger begin to stir inside her, and she punched the pillow a couple times for good measure until she felt the anger slip away. Her thoughts became jumbled, and she realized she was falling asleep after all.  
That's nice....  
  
She woke up in the graveyard.  
"You're gonna look so pretty when I'm done, you know. I think you're going to be one of my best works." Daniel smiled down at her, finishing his lipstick job.  
-No, nonononono, wake up damn you wake up you're at home in your bed Garrett's with you wake up WAKE UP-  
"It's a pity we don't have more time together, you know it?" Daniel said rather conversationally as he closed the lower half of the coffin. "I would have definitely enjoyed having you the various ways that those men had my whore of a mother. But...time is short."  
  
-WAKE UP  
WAKE UP  
WAKE UP!  
THIS  
ISN'T  
REAL  
DAMN  
IT!!!-  
  
"Tell you what... if they find you, I'll make sure to send flowers to your funeral service. It's the least I can do. Night-night..." He began to close the upper coffin lid. Light began to vanish, as did her hope.  
-NOOOOOOO-  
"-OOOO!!!" Jordan shrieked, clutching her blankets around her. It was light outside, and she could hear the faint familiar rumble of a snowplow in the distance. "Jesus...Jesus Christ..." The door burst open and there stood Garrett, scanning the room for any possible intruders before turning his attention to her.  
"Are you okay? I heard you screaming," Garrett said, looking at her worriedly through tired eyes.  
"Nightmare," Jordan gasped, taking a shuddering breath before letting it out in a rush.  
"Of what happened, I take it."  
"Yeah...Jesus...Why won't it stop...why won't it stop?" She stared up at him with pleading eyes, and in them he could see the child that had lost her mother so long before.  
He sat next to her on the bed, and on impulse, she wrapped her arms around him. He tensed up for a moment, then relaxed, holding her close.  
"Want to talk about it?"  
"We were in the graveyard and he was...he was putting the makeup on me," Jordan said quietly, beginning her story. "He was talking about how 'It was a pity we didn't have more time to spend together, because he wanted to rape me before he buried me...then he said that when I was found, he was going to send flowers to the burial service-"  
"-Stop." Garrett sighed, closing his eyes. He didn't want to hear the rest, couldn't.  
"Well, that was the end, anyway," Jordan said, her gaze sliding down to rest on the hardwood floor. "so I don't have any problems stopping." She sighed, letting him go to wrap her arms around herself. "I just want it to stop, Garrett...I want it to stop."  
"I know. Somehow, we'll find a way to make it stop."  
"...Will talking help Garrett? Honestly, will talking to a shrink help?"  
"It will, yeah."  
"What if it doesn't? What if I waste my mother fucking time talking to the shrink and nothing changes? What then? You still gonna keep me from my job?"  
"...I honestly don't know Jordan. I wish I could tell you for certain, but I'm not a mind reader. Our job, such as it is, carries a lot of stress, you know that. I don't want you to burn yourself out Jordan. With everything going on with this, and the search for your mother's killer...you're under a hell of a lot more stress than the rest of us."  
"...So who do you want me to talk to?"  
"It's your choice, Jordan. Either you can talk to the Office's shrink or you could go with an independent. It's up to you...but you need to talk to someone, other than me."  
"...What about Lily?"  
"She's not a trained psychologist Jordan, you know that. Besides, it's not like I want to do this. I don't want to take away from your life any more than necessary, and I know that talking to a psychologist will do that. But the last thing I want to do is to watch you burn out."  
"How do you know I will, Garrett? I've handled other things just as bad-"  
"Jordan," Garrett said, a faint smile on his face. "Don't try to get out of it."  
"...Can't blame me for trying," Jordan replied with a sigh.  
"Look, why don't you try to get a couple more hours sleep? I'll wake you up at around seven."  
"I'll try but I can't promise anything."  
Garrett got up and left the room, quietly closing her bedroom door behind him.  
Jordan pulled the blankets up around her, then began to toss and turn. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to fall back asleep...  
  
"...I can't do this."  
Garrett?  
"You think this is only hard for you? It's not all that fun for the rest of us, you know," Nigel replied.  
What's going on? Why can't I see them?  
"Does...does this even have to happen?" Lily was also somewhere nearby, it seemed.  
This is freaking me out...  
"Unless otherwise stated, yeah," Garrett replied with a tired sigh.  
What has to happen? What are they up to?  
"Are you going to be okay with this, boss?" Nigel replied softly.  
"I'm going to have to be," Garrett replied. "It's the last thing I'll be able to do for her."  
Wait a minute...the only place where I see Garrett, Nigel and Lily together are at work, so that means...  
Bright light suddenly assaulted her eyes as she was wheeled out of one of the body storage refrigerators of the morgue.  
Shit.  
"Wherever you are, Jordan, I'm asking you to forgive me. I'm sorry," Garrett whispered as he picked up the scalpel typically used for doing 'Y' incisions.  
He lowered it to her collarbone-  
  
"-Jordan, wake up."  
"Hunh? What?"  
"Breakfast is ready."  
"Oh. Yeah, okay." Garrett left her room once more to let Jordan get dressed. Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, Jordan was surprised to see the sun up.  
"Hey. Hi. Hope you don't mind scrambled eggs," Garrett said with a grin as soon as she came out.  
"No...scrambled eggs are fine, thank you." She sat down at the kitchen table, her latest nightmare still fresh in her mind. Face it Jordan, she thought wryly, You are one seriously fucked up chick.  
"All right Garrett," She said suddenly, surprising them both. "You want me to get help, I'll get it...on one condition."  
"Name it."  
"I see the shrink after my shift. I don't want time off from work...you and I both know I'd be bugging the guys for case files on the side. Let me work, and I'll see your damned shrink. I swear it."  
"Deal." 


	4. quatro

ï»¿ 

Untitled/Thanksgiving Ch.4

'Iowa' Lyrics by SlipKnoT, 'Man in the Box' lyrics by Alice in Chains. I don't own WTOS, Clear Channel does.

One Week Later

She was going to pull off a murder suicide for doing this- first she was going to kill Macy for forcing this bullshit on her, and then she was going to kill herself for agreeing with it.

Cheesy remakes of classic Christmas songs dominated the radio, and she groaned at a particularly heinous one done by Destiny's Child-or was it just Beyonce, she couldn't remember and couldn't care less-about the Twelve Days of Christmas. Finally finding a decent rock station, she listened to that as she found her way towards the psychiatrists' office.

"This is one-oh-five, WTOS, with killer classics and the best pure rock...here's some Alice in Chains by request for Portland...

_"I'm the man in the box_

_ Buried in my shit_

_ Won't you come and save me_

_ Save me..."_

Perfect. One of the few songs that could have drudged up the memories of what happened, and she was listening to it.

_"Feed my eyes, can you sew them shut_

_ Jesus Christ, deny your maker_

_ He who tries, will be wasted_

_ Feed my eyes now you've sown them shut_

_ I'm the dog who gets beat_

_ Shove my nose in shit_

_ Won't you come and save me_

_ Save me..."_

"Hell with this," Jordan snarled, turning the radio off.

Pulling into a parking spot and walking inside, she wondered for the thousandth time today what the Hell she thought she was doing, going through with this...talking about what had happened with some total, complete stranger who, no doubt, was going to attempt to burrow her way into the darker areas of her own psyche.

This, in other words, totally sucked.

A woman in her fifty's sat alone in the tastefully decorated office, and when Jordan entered, she rose to greet her. 

"Hello Ms. Cavanaugh...welcome to my office. Please, have a seat," The psychiatrist, a Doctor Morgana Dell said politely. Jordan nodded a little nervously and sat on the couch, trying to make herself look comfortable when in reality she felt as though she was lounging on broken glass.

"I understand you're suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." Dell began, taking out a pad of paper and a pen. 

" Yup."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"Nope."

"Then why are you here, exactly?"

"Because I was forced to see someone or I would've been suspended from my li-my job. You're the closest shrink to my workplace, so there you have it."

"It sounded like you were going to say that you were going to be suspended from your life...why is that?" Jordan sighed irritably, silently berating herself for not catching her mistake before she'd uttered it.

"Because my job IS my life."

"How so?" Jordan studied the carpeted floor intensely as she replied.

"I bring closure to people's families, their friends. As a medical examiner, finding out how they died, whether it be from a homicide, suicide or natural causes is my job. I'm one of the last people to see them before..." She trailed off, not even wanting to go near THAT subject.

"Before what?" Morgana kept writing in her notebook, patiently waiting for Jordan to continue.

"Before they go into a box," Jordan muttered, almost inaudibly. 

"I see. May I ask a question?"

"Sure...why not." Jordan sighed, closing her eyes. How long was this damned meeting for again?

"How many people come though your doors-or, to be more specific, through you- that die from natural causes?"

"Not nearly enough."

"So the majority of your cases are homicides."

"Yeah, pretty much."

"That must be stressful." Jordan frowned slightly.

"No more stressful than a normal person's job is. I'm good at what I do, so hacking and slashing people up isn't a problem for me."

"Are you saying you're not normal?"

Pretty much, doc...great to know you're finally catching on.

"No...what I'm saying is that not just anybody can do what we do. It's like someone trying to work nights, or being a brain surgeon. Some are cut out for the job, and others aren't." God this sucks, it reminds me of that anger management shit I had to go through. This really REALLY sucks...when can I LEAVE?

"Would you like to talk about the incident that caused you to get PTSD in the first place?"

"Not really, but seeing as how if I don't, my ass is gonna be canned, I might as well. A couple of weeks ago, I had the misfortune of finding a body that had been dead for quite some time, and that had already been given a funeral service and burial some weeks before. What I happened to find in his place was a young woman's body, and she'd been buried alive, left to suffocate." Jordan couldn't even see the carpet now; all she could see was the past events of her traumatic case flowing before her eyes.

"Go on," Morgana prodded gently. Jordan closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down before she continued.

"As soon as I released my findings, I got a visit from the Bureau in the form of one Special Agent Haley, who'd been working on the so called 'Digger' case from the beginning. He and I teamed up to try to find the killers' hideout, and eventually we did."

"What happened then?"

"Nothing...until I was about to leave the office one night, where I was attacked."

"You were attacked? By who?"

"The Digger," Jordan said flatly. "He was in the morgue, hiding under a sheet. I suspected Haley, cause he was kind of odd...but it wasn't him after all." Jordan had, by this time, wrapped her arms around herself tightly, as if she was cold. Her face was pale, eyes full of remembered pain.

"What happened then?"

"I...I Can't-"

-Flash-

_"-Relax, it's over..._

_ You belong to me_

_ I fill your mouth with dirt-"_

-Flash-

"He drugged me...took me to a cemetery-"

-Flash-

_"-Relax, it's over..._

_ You can never leave_

_ I'll take your second digit with me_

_ Love...-"_

-Flash-

"-and he was making me up to look like his mother, who was a prostitute...she used to lock him in a box while she was earning her money...-"

-Flash-

"-You know, I honestly wish I could have saved you for last, but you just had to get too close, didn't you? You and Haley just had to satisfy your curiosities. A shame I have to kill you so soon...-"

-Flash- 

"- Couldn't move...-"

-Flash-

"-The drug I paralyzed your muscles with should be wearing off shortly...too late for you to do anything about your situation, of course, but at least you'll know that you didn't go down without a fight."

OH FUCK YOU YOU SONOFABITCHWHENIGETOUTOFHEREI'MGOINGTOKICK 

YOURFUCKINGASS-

-Flash-

"-and he buried me alive..." In Morgana's eyes, Jordan looked as though she was on the verge of exhaustion, as the woman clearly hadn't been getting enough sleep. "...That's it."

"Is it?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Pardon me for saying so, but you look like Hell." To Morgana's surprise, Jordan only smirked sarcastically.

"I've been hearing that fairly often recently, and for the life of me I can't figure out why."

"In my professional opinion, you're not sleeping, and if you are, you're only getting a couple hours of sleep a day, which isn't nearly enough for someone your age. You've been putting the coffee and the No-Doz right to you, haven't you?" By the slightly guilty look on Jordan's face, Morgana knew she'd hit the nail on the head. "No more. As of right now, you have tomorrow off. You're going to spend it asleep, whether you like it or not. It's not up for debate," Morgana said sharply, cutting off any retort Jordan had planned on making. "You're no use to your boss if you mess up an autopsy or end up dead yourself in a car accident driving to work. You're taking tomorrow off and that's final."

"Funny," Jordan murmured to herself, "That's almost exactly what he said."

"And I see that you haven't listened very well either," Morgana shook her head sadly. "Rather stubborn, aren't you?"

"I'm Irish," Jordan replied, as if that explained everything. "Runs in the blood." Standing up, she decided to call this session to a close. "Nice chatting with you doc, but I got places to go, people to see. Saionara." Not waiting for a reply from the doctor, she left. 


	5. cinco :

Chapter Five

Well that went well, Jordan thought, shaking her head as she walked to her car. I don't know why the hell I couldn't have spilled my guts to Lily or someone like that.

Driving home, she stopped at a supermarket to pick up some food, thinking all the while of how she was going to try to sleep without having nightmares that would keep her up half the night. Her thoughts elsewhere, she accidentally ran into a guy with her shopping cart.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jordan apologized to the guy, who, she thought, wasn't all that bad looking. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"No, it's okay," The man smiled, then he did a double-take. "Don't I know you? You look awfully familiar."

Oh great, the guy's trying to come on to me. Lovely...I don't need this shit now, Jordan thought with an inward sigh.

"I'm sorry...you must be mistaking me for someone else," Jordan said, looking for a way to just grab her Taco Bell chicken fajita mix and leave.

"No, no...I've seen you before, I know I have...that case where the dude buried those chicks alive, right?"

This is REALLY starting to piss me off-

"If you'll excuse me," Jordan said, snagging her fajita mix, "I have to go."

"I know it! It is you! Listen..." He grabbed her arm, and Jordan stiffened up, fighting the urge to drop the guy. "...I'm a writer for the Boston Herald. I'd like to interview you. Make us both rich," He added with a wink.

"I'm sorry, now's not the best time," Jordan said hastily, wrenching her arm out of his grip.

"Come on, with your story, with the information you must have on this freak, we could make millions! A book deal, maybe a made for TV movie on NBC..."

"Do you ever lay off? Take the hint: I-don't-want-to-talk-to-you. Comprende?" She strode off, leaving the sputtering journalist alone in the aisle.

How dare he, HOW DARE HE! Jordan fumed, practically stomping towards the produce section. Yeah okay asshole, it was just a fucking bowl of cherries the whole time...even when the guy buried me alive I wasn't worried...that's why there were scratch marks all over the inside of my fucking coffin, right? She hated it, hating being constantly reminded of what had happened. Going to see the shrink, she believed, hadn't helped.

Paying for groceries about a half hour later, Jordan spotted the reporter in another checkout lane. Seeing him staring back at her, she idly scratched the side of her head with her right middle finger. Watching him frown, looking a little pissed at the insult, she grinned and left, heading home for the night.

Unfortunately she was so tired she didn't notice the vehicle tailing her home...

Putting on some soothing classical music, Jordan went about making the fajitas, turning the ringer off on her phone. Sitting down at her table fifteen minutes later, she was startled by the sound of Garret's voice.

"Hey Jordan, just wanted to let you know that your friend called and informed me of the situation...you'll have tomorrow off. Don't come in, or I'll be very unhappy. I guess that's it....I'll talk to you later."

"Damn it," She sighed, but then again she didn't really know why she should've been so surprised. Shaking her head, she turned on the tv and surfed that for a couple hours before nodding off...

"Lily, what're you doing here?" The two friends were in Jordan's apartment, which seemed to be constantly changing rooms. The only constants were Jordan, Lily and the tv in her living room.

"Look at this, you're making a tv movie...must be nice..."

"Huh?" Jordan turned to see a trailer for a miniseries playing on her tv.

"Tonight on NBC...the movie that'll have you talking..."

"Come on Daniel...time to get in the box for mommy..."

"The true story of Boston's newest serial killer..."

" No mommy! I don't want to! Don't put me in there, mommy, please!!!"

"'Legacy of Darkness', only on NBC, ten/nine central..."

"You like all the attention, don't you," Lily spat at her, as if she was dirt. "You like being recognized now, don't you?"

This is bullshit...

"Of course I don't, Lily...I never have!" Jordan replied angrily as the dream around her manifested itself to look like the morgue. "You don't know what it was like, Lily, no idea! I thought of you as a friend, but if you're going to come at me and attack me like this for no reason, then to hell with you." Be cool, Jordan...this is a dream, no signs of coffins anywhere, just dead bodies...and Lily's still your friend. You're okay.

"Whatever, Jordan. Have fun with your new friends," Lily sneered as she vanished.

What the hell is she talking about? Turning around, her eyes widened as the covered up bodies of the dead on their stretchers began to move.

-Oh this sucks-

Hands already pale with death pulled the sheets off their faces.

-Fuck!-

Five 'Daniels' stared sightlessly at her, their eyes filmed over. As one, they grinned.

-Jesus Christ-

She ran to the morgue door and went through it, just to find herself....

Back in the morgue, with the dead men continuing to stare at her, smiles on their pallid faces.

-Wake up, Jordan, make yourself wake up or this isn't going to end well...-

The men came closer...

"Stay back! Stay back, damn it!"

They kept coming, and one of them grabbed her and slammed her into a wall. She slid down it, just to be picked up by another and thrown on a stretcher like a slab of meat.

"Now we can do to you what we wanted to do to you," The men said in unison.

-This isn't happening! Please wake up, PLEASE!-

"Now your ours," the men growled, surrounding her. "Let's see how long you last-"

She bolted awake upon hearing her answering machine go off.

"Jordan...I know you're there Jordan...since the Digger didn't get to finish what he started, I'm going to do it for him." The man laughed, a crazy sounding giggle that had the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. "Don't worry, I'll pay you a visit soon..."


	6. 6

Untitled/Thanksgiving 

Part 6

As soon as I hung up the phone, I laughed, reaching into my jacket pocket for my lucky lighter and my half- empty pack of Marlboro's. Hell, I just want to put the fear of God into her, that's all. Nothing major. I mean, if she starts acting up and all I might have to follow through on my threats, but I sincerely hope that I won't have to. Burying people just isn't my style anyway.

Inhaling the toxic nicotine, I sigh as I regretfully put the cigarette out after only one puff. I've been working on quitting, after all, but the cigs just keep calling my name.

Fuck it. Time to go.

I walk over to my newly acquired SUV, a brand-new Toyota 4-Runner that I freed from it's owner only a couple months before. Too bad I had to kill the woman to do it, but that's the way it goes.

Now, back to the task at hand. My thoughts keep straying back to that Medical Examiner as I swerved around the few vehicles that were out on the roads this early, just to get stuck behind a slow-moving Oldsmobile. Slow people piss me off. Who cares if there's black ice on the road? MOVE IT!!!

-Calm down, damn it,- I tell myself as I make my way to my hotel room. -Calm the fuck down. You're no good to yourself if you get put back in the funny farm before you have the chance to get her.-

"I know, I know," I mumble, arguing with myself as if it's the most natural thing in the world to do. "Sometimes I get a little out of control. I'll try to contain myself better...but I'm sure as hell going to take some Valium before I crash." Self-argument over, I pull into the hotel parking lot and walk into my room. 

She's waiting for me. She always is.

"Hello mother," I greet her, as I sit down in one of those cheesy hotel chairs. "How was your day?"

She doesn't reply, not out loud, of course. She hasn't talked out loud for awhile, but that doesn't bother me as I can hear her voice in my brain.

-My day was good, son. And your own?-

"Perfect, mother. I think I've found my soul mate. Her names Jordan. Jordan Cavanaugh."

-Cavanaugh. An Irish name.- I can hear the clear disdain in her voice, something that I was able to pick up on at an early age. I glared at her.

"So what if she's Irish? What's wrong with that?"

-They're not PURE, son. Their race is all filth. It always has been. Get someone better, someone befitting your bloodline. A southern debutante, perhaps. One would be make a perfect wife for you, would be subservient as a good wife should be.-

"You weren't," I reply sullenly, turning on the T.V. "You never were."

-That's because your father was an idiot, boy,- My mother's voice hissed.-If he had his way, you and I would've been out on the street with nothing but the clothes on our backs, with him living the good life with my family's money. Now way in Hell was that going to happen...and you know why he was like that?-

"Because he was Irish?" 

-Because he was Irish! That's right! And this woman, this 'Cavanaugh'...she's going to end up the same way. Always hitting the bars, stumbling to one after the other looking for nothing but the next pint of Guinness.-

"Well..."

-Well what?-

"I did some checking, and her father DOES own a bar-"

-See? What did I tell you? Forget her.-

"No!" I glare at her angrily. "I'm tired of listening to you, mother. I'm going to sleep now, and so aren't you." With that, I picked up her skull, put it in a bowling bag I had just for that purpose, and promptly flopped down on the bed and closed my eyes.

-Sweet dreams, my boy,- My mother whispered as I slid into oblivion... 


	7. 7

Untitled/ Thanksgiving Part 7

He tossed and turned in his sleep, a frown darkening his face. Once more he dreamt about finding her dead in the coffin "The Digger" had placed her in, a look of horror frozen on her face as she had realized she couldn't get out, she wouldn't make it...

The phone rang, and he woke up immediately, glancing at the alarm clock.

-2:20-

Groaning, he picked up the phone.

"Macy," He mumbled, closing his eyes once more.

"It's-it's me, Garret."

"Jordan? What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"...No...some guy just left a message on my machine...I think he's stalking me."

"Have you called the cops yet?"

"No, I haven't. You were the first person I thought of."

"Well hang up and call the cops, Jordan, and then get your ass over here. Or better yet, I'll come get you."

"No, Garret, I couldn't-"

"If this guy's serious, Jordan -and from the way you sound right now he is- he knows your home phone number, which means he knows where you live...you need to start packing, now. Call the cops, Jordan. I'll be there shortly." Without waiting for a reply, Macy hung up and then began cursing a blue streak. He didn't know what the message was, but he knew Jordan well enough to know that it had to be bad to have gotten her shaken up like this, which was rare. Jordan was pretty much unflappable in even the worst of situations, unless it came to her mother, which was always a sore spot for her.

Getting dressed, he grabbed the keys to his suv and left, practically speeding to his friends house. When he got there, Jordan was waiting for him, a suitcase in her hands.

"All right Garret, all right. I won't argue, as I was planning on doing as you were driving here," Jordan said quietly, as he walked towards the answering machine.

"May I?" She nodded as he hit play and listened to the message.

"You called the police, right?" Garret asked quietly, his face pale as the message ended.

"Yeah...Woody's gonna come over here and check it out." Garrett nodded, reassured that she'd taken his advice.

"Good. Okay, let's go." Jordan nodded and they made the short trek to his vehicle. As soon as the first blast of cold air hit Jordan, she shuddered slightly and was extremely grateful to find that Garret had the heat on in his car full-blast.

"Jordan, you're going to be staying at my place for awhile...no excuses. This fucker, whomever he is, isn't going to get to you."

"I hope not," Jordan mumbled, burrowing into her coat. "That's the last thing I need right now at the moment."

Garret frowned. "Why, did something else happen?"

"Yeah, but...it's nothing. Don't worry about-"

"What happened, Jordan? Tell me."

"This guy recognized me last night as I went to the grocery store," Jordan replied wearily. "He wanted to interview me...said he worked for the Boston Herald and that if I gave him an exclusive it would mean big bucks for all of us."

"Bastard," Garret muttered underneath his breath. He turned his hawkish gaze onto the woman sitting beside him. "So what did you do?"

"I told him no, of course," Jordan said. "He didn't like taking no for an answer, however, but I managed to evade him after that."

"I imagine not," Garret replied quietly. "Anyways, I'm just glad you called me. I'm glad...that you were able to trust me with this."

"Who else would I have been able to talk to?" Jordan said, before clamping her mouth shut. Oops, didn't mean to let that slip.

"What do you mean? You can talk to Lily, Bug, Nigel, your father, Woody..."

"It's different."

"How so?"

"Can we talk about this later? Please?" She stared gloomily out the window. "Right now I just want to..." She trailed off, not finishing her sentence.

"'Just want to' what?" Garret said softly, risking a pitying glance at his friend before turning his attention back onto the road.

"I just want to escape. I don't want to have to worry about my father, about my job, about made for fucking T.V. movies, about some psycho that's fixated on me. I just want it to stop."

"I wish I could do that for you, Jordan...I wish I could make it stop," Garret replied quietly as they came to rest at a stop sign. "But I can't, unless you let me help you."

Jordan didn't reply as they made their way to his house.

"You're right, Garret." She finally replied quietly, throwing up her hands in a mock gesture of surrender. "You're right...all this time I've been acting like a total ass towards you for trying to help me out, and I apologize for that. This whole situation...it just fucking sucks."

"You got that right," Garret replied dryly as they entered his driveway.

After getting themselves inside his home and getting Jordan settled, both ME's decided to call it a night, and as soon as Jordan's head hit her pillow, she was out like a light.

Garret checked in on her ten minutes after she'd fallen asleep, and hearing her light snoring, her smirked to himself.

Finally, some blackmail material to hold over her head the next time I need something, He thought to himself with a shake of his head. With that thought in mind, he went to bed and fell asleep a short while later.

Walking into the ME's Office, he noticed everyone looked rather somber. Some were crying, and others looked as if they were going to kill someone.

Spotting Lily in her office, he walked in, not forgetting to knock.

"Lily, what's going on? Why's everyone look like their being laid off? I mean, I understand this is a morgue, but everyone looks as though someone's gone and died on them or something."

"Garret...that's because...someone did die, last night. We tried to reach you, but..."

"But what? Lily, what's going on? Who died?"

"Garret, there's no easy way to say this, but it was Jordan."

"...You're lying." A rush of anger filled him as she said those words. How dare she, HOW DARE SHE EVEN SAY THAT-

"Garret...Woody hasn't left her side since he brought her in, and that was a couple of hours ago. I'm sorry."

"This is bullshit," Garret replied icily, before marching down towards the morgue, thoughts rushing through his mind. This is a mistake, it isn't her, IT CAN'T BE HER...

When he plowed through the swinging doors, the sound brought Woody to his feet. He looked like hell.

"You brought her in?"

"Garret, I'm sorry, maybe you shouldn't-" Garret shouldered by him and lifted up the sheet in one smooth motion, revealing the face of his most talented ME.

All he could do was stare at the tremendous amount of damage that had been done.

"How do you know it's her?"

"Dental records..." He dropped the sheet back over his friends corpse and turned away. This wasn't right, none of it was right...

"You're right, Garret," The body underneath the sheet said cheerily. "You're dreaming...and unless you want it to continue, you'd better wake your ass up!"

Jerking awake, Garret once again glanced at the clock.

-7:30-

"Much better," Garret groaned as he mentally prepared to face another day of bureaucratic nonsense at the office. After getting dressed, he checked in on Jordan again, who'd never been a morning person. As expected, she was still asleep, and he quietly left for work, not wanting to wake her.

His day went pretty much as planned, until Lily came into his office, looking freaked out.

"Garret, can you come into Jordan's office for a minute? There's something you need to see."

"Sure, no problem...gives me a break from all this paperwork, at any rate." Following her in, the first thing he noticed was the steady sound of something dripping.

Drip

"What the hell..."

Drip

"It's coming from the package on her desk." Lily said softly.

Drip

Walking towards her desk, Garret knew that whatever was in that package wasn't gonna be good.

He was right.

Drip

Blood had formed a small puddle on the desk where it had seeped through the box, and it was sliding as far down the desk as it could go before landing on the floor.

Drip

"Who the hell delivered this?"

"Security said some local delivery service brought it...they didn't get the best description."

"Have them run the tapes, will you?"

"Sure, no problem."

Drip

"I'm going to open this up." Both of them left, and Garret headed back to his own office to grab a pair of gloves and a knife before re-entering Jordan's office where he carefully opened up the box. As soon as he did, the stench of rotting flesh hit his nostrils, and he took a step back, turning his head away.

Christ, that stinks

Drip

Looking into the box made his face pale, and his shaking hand reached in and grabbed a note, which had been thoughtfully wrapped in plastic so the other item wouldn't ruin it.

Drip

"Yeah, there gonna run the tapes, Garret," Lily came back in, looking worriedly at first him, then the box. "What's that?"

"A note..."

"Well? What's it say?"

Drip

"'I'm looking forward to our first meeting together. Hope you are too...this one wasn't and look what happened to her.' Christ." His expression turned into sickened disgust as he looked into the box again.

Drip

"Garret, what's in the box?"

He closed it, and turned towards her, his face pale.

"Some poor woman's head."

Drip


	8. 8

Untitled/ Thanksgiving part 8

4PM

I'm worried about my daughter.

Ever since Thanksgiving, she's been rather distant, and I haven't seen her come in the bar at all.

Something's not right...something's not right, and I'm going to find out what's what.

She wasn't at her apartment, 'Cause I checked. Probably still working at the morgue, driving Macy nuts. She has the ability to do that to people; I raised her, after all, and she gets that from me.

I suppose I probably shouldn't be too proud about that, after everything that happened to her mother and all. Being proud of literally driving someone into the funny farm isn't really something to brag about.

Entering the ME's office, I notice a flurry of activity which is unusual, even for this place. Something's definitely going on here, and I catch a glimpse of Macy coming out of Jordan's office.

"Hey Macy!" I yell, getting the Chief's attention. "You seen Jordan around? We need to talk."

"Last I knew she was still at my place. Why do you ask?"

WHAT?!?

"Your place?" I frown, putting on my best 'interrogation' face. "What's she doing there?"

"I thought she would've called you and told you what's going on."

"I haven't talked to her since that little incident she had with that psycho," I reply, glancing around. "She hasn't stopped by the bar or anything, and I've been meaning to talk with her. Why? What's going on?"

"Come into my office, and I'll fill you in," Macy replied, and I followed him in, plopping myself down in a chair before he could offer me a seat.

"So fill me in, Macy...what's going on?"

"I'm having Jordan see a shrink She's suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome."

"...I see."

"That's not all." He sat down behind his desk with a sigh. "Last night, or should I say this morning, Jordan called me. She was pretty shaken up by a message someone left on her answering machine."

"What message?"

"It said that he was going to finish what the 'Digger' started."

"Jesus Christ..."

"I didn't think she was safe at her apartment anymore, so I offered her a place to stay...and then earlier this afternoon Lily noticed a box on Jordan's desk."

"A box of...?"

"Not of...a woman's head was inside it, along with a note saying that he was looking forward to their first meeting."

"Son of a Bitch, Macy, why the hell didn't someone tell me all of this?"

"As I said before, I thought Jordan would've let you in on some of it already."

"No, she wouldn't have, Macy...she's stubborn as hell that way, you know that."

"I do," He agreed, "But you're her father. I know that you've helped her role-play some of the crimes she's solved, and talking about murder to a relative is usually a hell of a lot harder than just talking about personal problems."

"Ever since what happened, Jordan's been...distant from me. I haven't talked to her since it happened, other than talking to her on Thanksgiving. Not that I haven't wanted to, of course, but...I don't like prying into her business." I glance towards my daughters' office. "She doesn't know about it, does she?"

"Not yet. When I get out of here I'm going to talk to her about it."

"Well, you're gonna have to come to my place, cause she's coming home with me."

"Max-"

"Don't 'Max' me, Macy. She's my daughter, and she's going to stay with me until this whole thing's taken care of. End of story."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because I've been talking on and off with Detective Hoyt, and he seems to think that this guy's doing his homework."

"By that, you mean finding out personal info."

"Exactly. Hoyt thinks that if she went home and stayed with you and Evelyn, not only would that be the very first place this guy would look after he realizes that Jordan's no longer in her apartment, but it would also put your lives in danger as well."

"If Woody's correct, then we're already in danger," I replied, the infamous Cavanaugh temper beginning to rear it's ugly head. Shaking my head, I continued. "Fine then. She stays with you...but if anything happens to my daughter under your care Macy, it's coming down on your head." Pointing for emphasis on my last few words, I waited for him to nod before continuing. "Tell Woody to give me a call. We need to talk."

"No problem." I nodded again and got on the elevator, my face not betraying the seething rage I felt inside. How dare, HOW DARE someone go after my little girl! Woody and I would have to meet at my bar sometime soon to formulate a game plan for this jabroni, cause no way in hell was he even gonna get close to my daughter.


End file.
